


pickle's & olive's

by leavesfallfrom



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: F/M, Hockey, NHL, NHL RPF, National Hockey League, Toronto Maple Leafs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-01-11 23:28:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18434339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leavesfallfrom/pseuds/leavesfallfrom
Summary: feat. morgan rielly





	1. Chapter 1

Olive Brooks had put herself into a rut. She had been standing in the same spot for the past five minutes, glancing over at all the different selections of chips that could possibly end up in her basket. Shoppers had passed her by, Olive had to move out of the way for a few of them, but her sight never left the chips. 

 

Morgan was feeling weak. He was tired and drained from a playoff game that had not ended in the Toronto Maple Leafs favour. His need for comfort food was immediate, and although he knew he would regret the fact that he’d devoured a bag of chips and a pint of ice cream during practice the next day, had not deterred his impulse purchase. He had been slow walking down the aisle, glancing at all the different products and mentally making a list of groceries that he’d need for another time. Morgan spotted Olive when he first glanced down the aisle as he himself made his way to the chips and once the rows of chips were in front of him, he noted her furrowed brow aimed towards the bags in front of her, guessing she had a tough time choosing which to buy. 

 

“You can never go wrong with Sweet Chili Heat,” Morgan suggested to Olive as he picked up two bags himself and placed them in his basket. 

“I’m more of a Salt and Vinegar kind of girl,” Olive replied and finally grabbed herself a bag of the Salt and Vinegar Miss Vickie’s chips that she had been eyeing all along. 

“Well nothing really compares to Sweet Chili Heat,” he reasoned. 

“That’s debatable,” Olive muttered and glanced over at Morgan then back to the shelves, reaching over to grab a bag of Cheddar and Sour Cream chips as well.

 

Morgan looked to see what was in her basket and smirked, eyeing the chips as well as a few chocolate bars. He thought she must be having a rough night as well. 

 

Olive gave a small smile before walking away, trying to find the freezer section where she would find the ice cream. Like the chips, there were so many flavours, but this time Olive knew beforehand which she was going to select, she just needed to find a certain brand. She didn’t want Nestle, nor Bryers, or  Chapman’s, but finding Kawartha Dairy was always a hit or miss and so as her eyes once again began scanning, they averted their mission when she noticed a figure beside her. 

 

“Do you have any suggestions?” Morgan asked, smiling at Olive. 

“Anything Kawartha Dairy,” she replied and refocused on the tubs of ice cream. 

“I’m Morgan by the way,” he introduced himself, reaching out his hand for Olive to shake. 

“I know who you are,” she said, shaking his hand “Olive.”

 

His surprised face wasn’t lost on Olive, Morgan thought that since she never mentioned anything or take a second glance towards him in the chip aisle,  that she didn’t know who he was. 

 

“Are you a hockey fan?” he questioned, thinking he already knew the answer.

“You could say that,” Olive shrugged nonchalantly. 

“So the Leafs?” he asked, digging for more information. 

“You know, I’m not at liberty to say,” she replied, still staring at the freezers full of ice cream. She had pinpointed the tub of chocolate ice cream she had been craving all night and was about to reach in when Morgan asked her why. She signed and explained that it wouldn’t look good on her part because of her job, so she kept it to herself.

“Now I need to know,” Morgan urged “what do you do?”

“I’m a graphic designer,” she said and watched a smile form on Morgan’s face “...for the Montreal Canadiens.”

Just as a smile had graced Morgan’s face, it disappeared as soon as Olive mentioned the Canadiens. 

“Montreal?” Morgan asked, hoping for some clarity. He thought things were going well, then they took a turn when she said Montreal Canadiens. 

 

It was no surprise to Olive how Morgan reacted, the Leafs and Canadiens obviously had their history, but she thought that once she had mentioned who she worked for, Morgan would bow out gracefully and leave her be to finally get that ice cream. He had been silent as Olive reached in for the chocolate flavour when Morgan interrupted with the only question that was most important to him. 

 

“So do you actually like... _ like _ Montreal? Or do you just  _ work _ for them?” he asked, needing clarification. 

Olive smiled, but kept the answer to herself. 

 

With that Olive started to make her way down the aisle to a checkout counter, with Morgan following quickly behind her. 

 

“What team?” he questioned urgently, placing his own groceries on the conveyor belt. 

 

All he got in response was a shrug from Olive and a small smirk as she thanked the cashier and headed for the exit.

 

\---

 

Once Morgan got home he had originally planned to catch up on whatever show was waiting for him in his continue watching list on Netflix. Instead he settled onto his couch, opened his first bag of Sweet Chili Heat Doritos and pulled his phone from his pocket. 

 

_ Olive _ was not a common name, Morgan thought. He thought it should be easy to find her, at least he hoped so. He started with Instagram, thinking that it’d be easier to find her. With no such luck after five minutes of searching, Morgan decided to do a simple Google search.

 

_ olive montreal canadiens graphic designer  _

 

He clicked on the third link which took him to a LinkedIn account. After inspecting the accounts profile information, he concluded that it was indeed Olive. 

 

_ Olive Brooks. Graphic Designer. Montreal Canadiens.  Toronto/Montreal. _

 

After reading through Olive’s LinkedIn account, he began repeating her name multiple times and quickly re-opened his Instagram app and typed in her name. Olive’s profile was public, he could scroll through without her ever knowing how creepy he felt he was being. Morgan reasoned with himself, because he knew lots of people did this these days, he was sure plenty of people had searched him up online, so he felt justified in doing so himself. 

 

Morgan started from Olive’s most recent which had been posted five hours ago. It was a landscape photo of her truck parked along the side of a road, with a lake and forest behind. 

 

_ When the players head home, so do I #summerstartsearly  _

 

As his eyes looked over each photo uploaded, Morgan felt like he was getting to know her better, understand her sense of humour that she used in her posts captions and even in her photos, whether she was by herself or with a group of friends. The one thing he did take notice of was the fact that there were no photos wishing a guy a happy anniversary, or saying how much she loved him, or congratulating him on receiving his university degree. Nothing, he thought. Well there was the possibility that she wasn’t into men, but he found nothing to conclude that theory. So as far as he could tell, Olive was single. 

 

With a few more scrolls Morgan had found the thing he was looking for; an inclination as to what team she actually cheered for. To the untrained eye, one would think the shirt Olive was wearing in a past post was just a white t-shirt with blue maple leafs on it. Morgan took everything in, he noticed the leafs on her shirt and how her blonde hair had been pulled back with a scrunchie. The scrunchie was was a dark blue and as Morgan zoomed in on the post he saw the small white maple leafs and the letters that read Toronto Maple Leafs in the small leafs. He grinned, having figured out the mystery of Olive, well one of many he presumed and he tapped the share icon, typed in Olive’s handle, and sent it with a message. 

 

_ Good to know what team you’re cheering for ;)  _

 

He was skeptical to add the winking face, erasing and inputting it multiple times, but decided to just go for it. The last thing Morgan needed to do before putting down his phone and focusing on his chips and tv show, was hit the follow button on Olive’s instagram profile. 

 

\---

 

By the time Olive had gotten back to her condo and made the two trips it took to grab everything from her truck, she settled in on her couch and switched on the tv. Sportsnet was the first channel that she had come across and as she listened to how NHL games across the league had faired out that night, Olive began digging into her tub of chocolate ice cream, not bothering with a bowl. After two rounds of brain freeze Olive thought that she’d better slow down and instead of shoveling another spoonful into her mouth she reached for her phone on the coffee table. 

 

There were notifications from Snapchat, NHL, Instagram, and a few texts from some friends. She went through the texts and snaps sending a few of her own, and saw that the Toronto Maple Leafs had lost 6-0 against the Boston Bruins in their second playoff game. Many notifications flooded her instagram, from likes to follows, friends sending her memes or stories that they thought she should see, and one message that stood out from everything else. 

 

She laughed and shook her head at Morgan’s message. Olive did not think for one second that Morgan Rielly would actually google her, which he would have to of based on the fact that he only knew a select few things about her. 

 

_ Is this considered stalking ?  _  Olive sent, she didn’t mind him sending her a message but she was hoping to make Morgan sweat it out for at least a couple minutes. 

 

_ I believe it’s called creeping, actually _ . She laughed at his response and sent another message. 

 

_ How long did it take to find me ?  _

 

_ Well if I was smart enough I’d have gone straight to Google…. how’re the chips?  _ was his response.

Olive told Morgan that she hadn’t cracked those open yet and probably wouldn’t get to them tonight since she had more than her fair share of ice cream. With a few more messages sent between the two, Olive never mentioning his first message sent to her, she bid Morgan a goodnight and headed to bed after her long day. 

 

\---

 

The next day for Olive was spent in her sweats, her hair in a knot on top her head, and glasses perched on her nose. The unpacking started at ten o’clock that morning and she finally felt like things felt back to normal by two o’clock when everything was back in their place. All that was left to do on her list was groceries. Olive knew she could have gone the night before while she was picking up chips and ice cream, but she had been tired and couldn’t keep her mind straight enough to think of all the things she’d need. 

 

Practice for Morgan had been for lack of a better term; hell. He told himself what those bags of chips and ice cream would do to him the next day and they had certainly proved themselves during drills. Once his duties had been fulfilled for the day Morgan headed home and once again found himself crashing on his couch. It had only been fifteen or so hours since he last spoke to Olive and soon enough he’d be on a flight to Boston with the team, hoping to pull out a win. 

 

_ I blame you for allowing me to buy chips and ice cream.  _ He sent as an excuse to begin a conversation with Olive. 

 

Olive scoffed at the message she had read from Morgan, knowing that he was most definitely regretting snacking late last night. 

 

_ And why am I at fault ?  _  she questioned. 

 

_ You knew I was a hockey player, and since you’re a fan you know that I had practice today and a game tomorrow and would obviously know that I’d feel like shit after eating chips and ice cream.  _

 

_ It says a lot about a man if he can’t take responsibility for his own actions.  _

Olive wasn’t as serious about her words, and hoped Morgan wouldn’t take them the wrong way. 

 

_ What’re you doing tomorrow night? _ Morgan asked, disregarding her previous message.

 

_...nothing ?  _ Olive was confused. She knew Morgan was in Boston the next night, so he obviously wasn’t asking her out. 

 

_ Come to Boston for the game.  _ It was a long shot that she’d say yes, but Morgan quickly went on to offer her a set of tickets. 

 

Olive had read the message, Morgan had saw that she read it, but there had been no reply. She thought it was crazy and so last minute to head to Boston, but as a Leafs fan she knew she couldn’t turn down the offer. She had two weeks off of work before she was to start back up again and nothing to occupy her time with during the weekdays. The only thing holding her back was the fact she didn’t want to go alone. It took all of ten minutes for Olive to sort the next day out. Boston was a go, she’d drive, with her best friend Ryann as passenger/navigator, the only thing left was to find a hotel for the night. 

 

_ Okay  _ was her only response and Morgan’s eyes almost bugged out as he couldn’t believe that it had been that easy to get her to come. There had been no begging or coercing her on his part, just a simple question with the answer he wanted to see. 

 

_ 2 tickets will be at will call...and don’t bring a guy.  _ He thought to add the last part, just in case she wasn’t aware that he liked her and wanted to get to know her....although he knew they wouldn't be doing much talking in Boston, as Morgan would be on the ice and Olive would be in the stands, hopefully cheering for his team, but more importantly, him.     

  
  
  



	2. two

The drive to Boston was long, but not uneventful; road trips were like second nature to Olive and Ryann. Olive had yet to divulge to Ryann how she had scored the tickets to that nights game, Ryann had just assumed that with her connections within the hockey world, Olive could get anything she wanted.  
  
“Oli...who’d you finally sleep with to get these seats?” Ryann grinned and wiggled her eyebrows in Olive’s direction after applying some blush to her cheeks in their hotel bathroom.   
  
It was Ryann’s job during the car ride to find a hotel, but the majority had been booked surrounding the arena and after four calls, they finally had a place to stay that night after the game.   
  
“I didn’t sleep with anyone,” she scoffed at the idea “I made a friend, that’s all.”   
Olive finished off her look with a swipe of mascara and very strategically maneuvered a Toronto Maple Leafs jersey over her head. She prayed that Morgan gave them half decent seats, knowing how Boston fans could get especially in their own arena, with the opposing team.   
  
Fans approached the arena in packs, most of them dressed in black and gold, with blue and white scattered amongst the bunch. The girls waited in line at will call and people watched until they were next in line. Olive gave her name and handed over her drivers license as proof of person, in return she was handed an envelope with two tickets inside. Their seats were behind the players benches, higher up so they had a full view of the ice; Olive didn’t even want to know how much those seats were going for online.   
  
To both Olive and Ryann it had felt like their bellies were stuffed with butterflies watching the game. Boston had scored first, which made the butterflies feel like knots, but the knots gave some slack when the score was tied and the Leafs had scored once more. By the end of the game the two women had been on their feet more than the Boston fans surrounding them. The Leafs had taken the lead in the second period and by the third Boston had no chance of a comeback and so with smiles on their faces, the two left the arena and headed back to their hotel.   
  
An hour later as Olive was snacking on a chocolate bar her phone lit up with a message appearing on her screen.  
  
“ _How ‘bout them leafs?_ ” was all it said.   
  
“ _I guess they did okay._ ” Olive smiled at her response.   
  
“ _Just ok?_ ” Morgan typed, a bit offended.   
  
Olive knew that if she replied she’d have to continue a conversation, but all she really wanted to do was finish her KitKat and snuggle into the mountain of pillows and fall right to sleep. The drive had been long and the excitement from game had fueled her to manage, but once they had returned to their hotel room and Olive took a seat on the edge of the bed, it was a struggle to find it in herself to get up and change into her pyjama’s.  
  
“ _They did great. You did great Morgan. Just keep it up, okay ?_ ”   
  
“ _We’ll try._ ” was waiting for Olive the next morning when she awoke and checked the notifications on her phone from throughout the night.   
  
\---  
  
Morgan was focused. His head was cleared for the game and the games objectives were set. Excitement ran through the locker room after the game and continued on the plane ride back to Toronto, as the boys headed for the next game. He knew that he wouldn’t have been able to see Olive after the game, what with post game interviews and heading back so soon, so he settled for messaging her, making himself a promise that by the next day he was going to make a firm plan to see Olive. Theoretically he knew that nothing could really happen while the Leafs were still in the playoffs, he needed to keep his focus and he didn’t exactly have much, if any, spare time to be out galavanting with some girl he just met. So for now, all he could give her was some messages asking how her day was going, what her favourite colour was, if she enjoyed the game; simple things for him to learn and get to know her a little bit more each day.   
  
In the few short weeks Morgan had learnt quite a bit about Olive and vice versa. Sometimes when questions were complex and took too many words to type out, they’d end up calling one another. Olive was not one to talk on the phone, she hated it and always found herself leaving awkward silences which Morgan always filled in with mindless chatter. She found they worked well together that way, where she left off, Morgan would soon come in right on her trail, either adding to the topic of discussion or jumping to a totally different subject.   
  
“Do you think this pizza would still be good?” Morgan asked Olive, cradling his phone between his shoulder and ear.   
  
Olive laughed at the fact that he gave her no more information, like when the pizza was made or how long it had been sitting in his fridge for.  
  
“When did you buy it?” she questioned. His response of “four days ago” made Olive shake her head and told him in a firm voice to toss it.   
  
“Well that’s one phone call to my mother I don’t have to make,” he replied and slid the opened box onto the counter and pulled the pieces out to throw away.   
  
\---  
  
Leafs fans have two sayings they live by each season:   
“ _This is our year_ ” is said during regular season when the team is high in the standings.   
“ _Next year_ ” is said when they find out they’re playing Boston in round one and push through until game seven, where they lose it all.  
  
Olive was no stranger to these sayings, as she had thought them and had even said them to doubters when the Leafs were having a great season, and to loyal fans just like her as the final horn goes at the end of game seven, players and fans are left feeling defeated. Olive worked for a NHL team, she worked alongside it’s players, she had created friendships with some of them, but it was never easy to say “Next year”, she felt that no matter what she or anyone said things wouldn’t be okay until it was time for redemption; until a new season had begun.   
  
She wanted to send a message to Morgan, something that he could hopefully find comfort in, but knew she didn’t have the words he’d want to hear right then. Instead she sent him a screenshot of a coupon that was offering two bags of chips for five dollars at their local grocer. Olive knew the risk of sending the text, Morgan would either feel angry at her attempt for a joke and would never speak to her again. Or he’d take it as Olive intended it to be; eat his heart out tonight and tomorrow will be a new day to start over. Seriousness was Olive’s greatest hamartia; in times when things become tense and the tone changes Olive has always wanted to lighten the mood, cracking a joke that her audience may or may not find amusing.   
  
 _Got any coupons for a barrel of ice cream?_  
  
 _We might have take a trip to Costco for that size..._ was Olive’s reply, happy that he was at least attempting to joke along with her.   
  
Morgan hadn’t replied right away, making Olive’s head wander, wishing she could take back that first text, until a reply from Morgan had popped up on her screen.   
  
 _Aisle 6 at 8?_  
  
 _Meet you there_  was all Olive had responded.  
  
Olive walked into the store at eight o’clock on the dot. She wasn’t exactly sure which aisle number six was but she had a very strong feeling she knew the kind of content it held. As she squinted up at the signs counting from one, she finally made it to aisle six and turned down to see Morgan already there. He already had his hands full; two bags of his beloved Sweet Chili Heat and a box of chocolate chip cookies.   
  
“I see you’ve already started,” Olive smiled softly, not sure how his current mood was.   
“Figured I’d get a head start,” he shrugged and nodded toward the rows of chips “what kind do you want?”  
  
She picked up a bag of regular Ruffles, not feeling too adventurous and followed Morgan as he headed toward what she knew would be the freezer section.   
  
In his haste to just grab all the snacks he wanted, Morgan neglected to grab a basket. He found what he was looking for, but was struggling to open the freezer door. Olive couldn’t help but smirk at his struggle, and when he finally looked over to her, silently asking her to get the door, did she let out a laugh and step forward to help him out.   
  
“Can you grab both chocolate and vanilla,” Morgan asked.   
Olive did as she was asked, and then the two headed up to the cash registers. Once Olive had placed the ice cream on the conveyor belt, she reached into the small refrigerator and pulled out a diet coke, placing it alongside the ice cream.   
  
Morgan didn’t say much, if anything at all when he paid and exited the store. Olive just assumed he wanted her to follow him and so the two walked to his place in silence. When they made it inside, Olive couldn’t help but look in every direction, taking in his lack of decorating abilities. The place was nice, modern yet cozy, but it was like a hotel room suite to Olive. She understood that his job made him spend more time in a hotel room then at his own place, but that didn’t give her reason enough to believe that it should look empty.   
  
“So your options,” Morgan spoke, tearing Olive’s eyes away from the small tour she had taken herself on. He had spread out the bags of chips, cookies and ice cream, with plates and bowls sitting in front of them waiting to be filled.   
  
“What I like to do is take the cookies and some ice cream and make a sandwich,” he said, demonstrating, as if Olive wasn’t sure how to go about making an ice cream sandwich.   
“Well I’ll have whatever you’re having,” she smiled, reaching for her own cookies and the tub of chocolate ice cream.   
  
They made their sandwiches in silence, Olive taking great care in making sure hers was perfect, before quickly reaching into her pants pocket to pull out her phone and snapping a photo, it was a habit of hers.   
  
“Cheers,” Morgan said, raising his sandwich in her direction after they had gotten situated on the couch.   
“Cheers,” Olive mumbled around the bite she had taken.  
“I’m sorry I haven’t been really talkative tonight,” he apologized as he scrolled through channels on the television.   
“It’s understandable,” she offered “I mean, obviously I can’t understand from a players perspective, but as an employee of an NHL team and even a fan, I know how much that sucks.”  
“Yeah,” Morgan sighed “can we talk about something else? What’re your plans for the summer?”  
  
Olive let the subject change happen, she felt bad enough that the Leafs had lost once again, but Morgan didn’t want to feel angry anymore, he wanted a clear head and so she began to tell him about her summer plans. She had two weeks off then it was back to work for her. Luckily for Olive, she was able to travel with her work, there were some weeks she didn’t have to be in the office, therefore being the only reason she was back in Toronto for the majority of the summer. A few trips had been planned to Montreal, when she was needed in the office, but this time allowed her to spend so much needed time with friends and family that she couldn’t see much of throughout the hockey season. She wanted to ask what Morgan had planned, but wasn’t sure if that just brought back all the anger at having his season taken away from him, but she asked anyways. He told her of his plans to head back home to Vancouver, and to just relax and spend time with his family and friends. He’d look back on the season the Leafs had had, look at what worked for him, what he felt he needed to improve upon for the upcoming season and then soon enough he’d start training and in the blink of an eye, October would be here, ready for a new season, another chance to win the cup.   
  
It was midnight by the time Olive left Morgan’s. He thanked her for coming over, for her friendship.  
  
\---  
  
Morgan had gone through the process of locker clean outs and exit interviews and had been packed up and his placed cleaned (or at least his fridge), ready to head home. He’d talked to Olive a couple times a day since she had come over a few nights beforehand, but he hadn’t seen her since, and time had run out to do that.  
  
 _Sorry that I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye in person,_  
but I hope you have a great summer and we’ll talk soon.  
  
Olive had been a bit disappointed that she hadn’t gotten to say goodbye or even just give him a hug to wish him well, but at least he’d told her they’d still talk. 


End file.
